


Spiced Pumpkin Latte's

by moonlittides



Series: Jonsa Halloweek Event [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autumn, Eye Contact, F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Love at First Sight, Student Sansa, soldier jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12520388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlittides/pseuds/moonlittides
Summary: On an beautiful autumnal day in Stratford-Upon-Avon, Sansa and Jon find themselves thrown together by fate and spiced pumpkin latte's.





	Spiced Pumpkin Latte's

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for the first day of jonxsansafanficiton's Jonsa Halloween Event "All Hallow's Week" based on the prompt "autumn."

Sansa strides down the cobbled streets, her brown thigh high boots crunching on the crisp leaves scattered across the ground,  her face nestled into the knitted burgundy scarf around her neck. 

No place can compare to Stratford-upon-Avon during autumn. The picturesque villages, bouts of countryside bursting with shades of reds, yellows, browns and oranges and babbling brooks and flowing rivers meandering through, quaint hang-outs from book shops to museums, coffee shops to pubs. 

As a second year student at London College of Fashion, Sansa has adjusted to the hustle and bustle of city life and come to appreciate the limitless shops where she can quite literally shop ‘til she drops, along with the constant goings on that make it impossible to ever be bored. But nothing can quite compare to her hometown and she lives for the times she is able to visit. The peace, tranquility and beauty here is second to none and Sansa feels immediately more at ease just for being back. 

  
  
Entering her favourite coffee shop, she heads straight for the counter and greets the barista with a friendly smile.

”Hi. What can I get you?” she asks. 

“Could I get a spiced pumpkin latte with cinnamon and caramel sauce.” Sansa recites her order, a deeper unfamiliar voice echoing her words. 

She glances to her left to find the source of the voice. It’s a young man, leaning over the counter, a newspaper opened underneath his face and he’s looking up at her with dark brown eyes, his mouth turned up into a small smile. 

Sansa smiles at him, her unblinking gaze lingering on him for longer than they should until she eventually finds her tongue. “Um, I’m sorry. You go. You were here first,” she offers politely. 

“No, need to apologise,” he says with a suave smile before turning to the barista and saying, “So that’ll be two spice pumpkin latte’s with cinnamon and caramel sauce, please.” 

With his eyes on her, Sansa bows her head slightly and blushes. “Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.” 

The barista stands behind the counter, a knowing smile upon her face. She’s nothing but a blur to them now and neither Sansa nor the handsome stranger notice her get to work making the drinks. 

“Seems you’ve got good taste,” he says. 

“You too,” Sansa replies in a sultry voice, her body turning towards him.

Though they’re strangers, there’s an immediate familiarity and ease in their flirtations. They hold one another’s gaze with confidence and continue to smile at each other.

“That’ll be £7.20, please,” the barista announces. 

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans whilst Sansa rifles through her bag for her purse and they both hand the barista a ten pound note at the same time. 

Sansa side eyes him and they both chuckle. 

“This is on me,” he says. 

Though Sansa’s pride demands she pay, she doesn’t wish to engage in the ever controversial debate of whether it is gentlemanly to pay for a woman’s drink or damn right insulting. In this instance, Sansa is inclined to go with the former and accepts his offer with a gracious nod and words of thanks. 

Sansa takes the mug of coffee into her hands and lingers. She wants to invite him to sit with her but suddenly becomes bashful. Fortunately, he has the confidence to do what she doesn’t and says, “Would you like to grab a table?” 

Sansa nods. “I’d like that.” 

“Great,” he beams at her, folding up his newspaper and grabbing his coffee. 

They sit at the table nearest the window and in the daylight, Sansa notices how truly handsome he is. He’s chiseled and rugged, with thick black stubble and curly black hair. His smile is charming and though it’s small and understated, it lights up his entire face. 

Sansa has dabbled in the dating world in her years as a teenager but has never experienced anything quite like this. It’s exciting and her heart is fluttering in her chest. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” Sansa starts. She’s lived in Stratford-upon-Avon her entire life and generally knows the faces of the residents. “Are you a tourist?” 

“No. I was born here, but have been away a lot over the last 7 years. I’m a solider. Left school, went to college to study business, realised it wasn’t for me, so joined at 18. Haven’t looked back since.” 

“Oh.” Sansa is taken by surprise. 

“What? Didn’t take me for a solider?” 

"No, no, it’s not that. I mean, I guess I just pictured you to be the drummer in some indie rock band. What with the boots, tight jeans, suede jumper, long hair and beard.” 

He chuckles, then leans forward and says, “Who says I’m not?” 

Sansa raises her eyebrows at him. “Seriously? You’re a solider that’s also a drummer in a band?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” he teases. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” she smiles and he beams at her. 

“How about you? What do you do?” 

“I’m a student at LCF.” 

He frowns, a puzzled look on his face. “LCF?” 

“London College of Fashion.” 

His eyes widen, “Oh, so you’re a fashion student. That explains it.” 

“Explains what?” 

“Your impeccable taste in fashion.” 

There’s a certain tone to his voice that makes Sansa momentarily question whether or not he’s being sarcastic, but when she realises he’s being serious she blushes. 

“Thanks. Well, yours isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You should,” Sansa replies, fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

“I particularly like the scarf.” 

“Made it myself,” Sansa says, stroking the knitted scarf still around her neck. 

“Brings out the beautiful blue of your eyes.” 

Sansa is completely floored by his forward compliment and doesn’t quite know what to say. 

For a while they remain smiling at each other and Sansa cannot recall ever feeling this way upon first meeting someone. On first appearances he looks like any other ordinary person, yet something about him is so different.

She’s watched countless movies where encounters like this happen - two mysterious strangers meeting by a twist of fate and being taken with each other - but she always accepted them as being cheesy fantasies reserved for chick flicks. Yet she feels like she’s living one of those fantasies right now. 

* * *

Sansa isn’t sure how much time passes by, but it’s enough that when she takes a sip of her coffee it’s stone cold. She and the handsome stranger have scarcely paused for breath, discussing his experiences in the army, Sansa’s aspirations for the future, music and even literature. Turns out they have a lot more in common than just their taste in coffee. 

“Are you joking? Romeo and Juliet is so much better than The Tempest. It’s iconic,” Sansa says. 

“All that romance and death is so predictable. The Tempest is witty and fun.”

Sansa shakes her head. “I guess there’s one thing we do disagree on then.” 

“Looks like it.” 

They both laugh and they’re interrupted by the barista. 

“Excuse me, we’re actually closing up now. We close earlier on Sundays.” 

Sansa looks down to her watch in surprise and sees that it’s 2:55. 

“Wow, is that really the time?” he exclaims as surprised as Sansa. 

Sansa feels her heart sink and is immediately deflated. She isn’t ready to leave him yet. There’s still so much to talk about. 

They both stand up, pull their coats on and head for the door. When they get outside, Sansa notes how much cooler it is, the wind having picked up in speed and a hoard of grey clouds lingering above their heads. She pulls her coat tighter about herself and shivers. 

“So, thank you for the drink,” Sansa starts, breaking the silence. 

“It was my pleasure.” 

Still charming. 

Sansa tells herself that she’s going to invite him somewhere else but every time she tries to open her mouth to say the words she falters. Why is she so nervous? He clearly likes her too. 

“I’m Jon by the way.” 

“Oh, of course,” Sansa says putting her hand to her head and chuckling lightly. It’s only now she realises they were so caught up in conversation they hadn’t even formally introduced themselves. 

“I’m Sansa.” 

“Sansa.” 

She never knew hearing her name could be so beautiful. His voice and the way he moves his mouth around it makes it sound like a song. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Sansa practically stumbles over her words, desperate to get them out before she chickens out. For a few moments she keeps her eyes on the ground, afraid to see his reaction but when she looks up at him and sees the ecstatic grin on his face, all of her nerves fade away. They’re replaced with a fuzzy feeling that radiates out from the center of her chest and butterflies that flutter in her stomach. 

“I would love that, Sansa.” 

She smiles a small smile and ignores the urge to tap dance in the street in celebration. 

The two of them fall into step beside each other and proceed down the street, their conversation picking up again. They walk close enough that their hands are brushing against each other and in that instant, the rest of the world fades away leaving just them. 

As they giggle unreservedly and steal longing gazes at one another, they’re completely unaware that today will be the day they recall to their children and grandchildren in decades to come as being the autumn day they were brought together by spiced pumpkin latte’s and fell in love. 


End file.
